


you keep making me cross the line

by softtofustew



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gay Chicken, Implied Sexual Content, Kisses, M/M, Sungbri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 11:55:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16575986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softtofustew/pseuds/softtofustew
Summary: brian’s tipsier than he should be, face flushed red asthepark sungjin,thecollege heartthrob,thelove of his life for five years now, leans closer and closer to him in a room full of people one costume party, sometime in december.(honestly? it feels like he’s stepped into a teen movie of his own. not that he’s complaining, of course.)





	you keep making me cross the line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kris_the_writer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kris_the_writer/gifts).



> this is actually the first time i’ve written sungbri, so i hope you enjoy this!! + also,, i have never heard of gay chicken until i wrote this wdehdwdnwjed so i hope it lives up to your expectations!

the wintry snow kisses the ends of brian’s fingertips as he weaves his way through the throng of people on the rooftop. beyond the metal railing are the pretty skylines of seoul, twinkling back at the crowd. an expanse of clouds envelopes the costume party with the littlest of snowflakes.

someone taps his shoulder. brian swivels around, and his heart does a jump of sorts - park sungjin’s dressed in a builder’s workhat, the hard yellow hat atop his mess of light brown hair. the jean suspenders are a nice touch, brian thinks. the adrenaline of the alcohol in his veins tempts him to touch the fabric.

sungjin jerks his chin at brian. “what’re you supposed to be, then?” he chuckles lightly. the light from the fairy lights bounces off of his eyes. the corners of them are crinkled in a smile of their own.

laughing, brian brushes snow off of his jean jacket, just for dramatic effect. “the blond hair doesn’t give it away? i’m kurt cobain, my friend. legendary rock star of all rock stars.” with that, he fakes an air guitar, earning another bundle of chuckles from the older.

surrounding the two are people from college. god knows why jae had even wanted a costume party in the middle of fucking  _ december _ , for lord’s sake. (brian’s pretty sure the lady close to the railing is barely wearing anything over that bikini of hers. and why a bikini? where’s the jacuzzi?) but a small party consisting only the three of them had turned into them asking wonpil, and because wonpil knows everyone, he invited dowoon, and because  _ dowoon _ has a shit ton of fangirls (and fanboys) for no apparent reason, almost the whole student body is atop jae’s rooftop now.

beside him, sungjin purses his lips. “yeah. the only problem is this,” he raises a hand to brush brian’s floppy hair, “isn’t shoulder-length. but fair enough.” the touch itself leaves burns running throughout brian’s body, and he has to take another swig from his solo cup to calm his nerves.

“what are  _ you _ ? bob the builder?” brian jokes.

sungjin raises an eyebrow playfully. “you’ve got a good eye, brian.”

brian almost chokes on his vodka. “holy shit. you’re shitting me, right?”

a hearty laugh erupts from sungjin’s throat. “nah, man. i found the hard hat lying around in my closet and thought about it. besides, jae’s always saying i look like the dude himself, so why not?”

“speak of the devil,” brian nods towards the doorway leading to the rooftop. out steps jae, flanked out in a long dark robe, hood over the bird’s nest of his black hair. a scythe the height of jae is held in one hand as the boy troops over to the duo near the railing. for someone dressed from head to toe in black, a beaming smile radiates from his lips.

“cobain. bob,” jae hums, tone light and playful. he pokes sungjin in the ribs with the tip of his scythe, causing the other to whine. (personally, brian finds it cute. no.  _ shit _ . stop thinking. take another sip of that stupid drink in your hand.) “lovely to see you two. now allow me to reap your souls.”

with that, brian can’t help but guffaw. “ _ you _ ? a grim reaper? what are the odds?”

“please,” jae protests, raising his free hand up. “wonpil is dressed as a  _ stripper _ in the tightest jeans i’ve seen my whole damn life and currently doing one-on-ones with the girls in my living room, so i decided to-”

“-woah, okay, too much information there-”

“-anyways,” jae clears his throat. he runs a hand through his hair, letting the hood fall off. “i’m rounding the homies up for a round of games in the kitchen. care to join?” a slow grin makes its way across his face. brian’s seen it too many times to know that that’s the hint of mischief, promises of some devious plan along the way.

the rock-star dressed boy crosses his arms. he narrows his eyes at jae. “what are you thinking about, jae?”

“oh, nothing, maybe some shots, some stupid teenage games, why?” he blinks at brian innocently, yet brian catches how jae’s eye slides surreptitiously at sungjin, who’s fixing his hat atop his head.  _ the son of a bitch _ , brian thinks, but before he can open his lips, sungjin’s glancing up and grinning.

“yeah, sure, why not?” brian holds his tongue, simply watching on as jae’s chesire cat smile simply widens. with a turn of a heel, he’s off, and brian swears the boy’s swaying his hips at them way more than they should.  _ fuck you, park jaehyung. _

 

**_______________**

 

as brian takes another swig of his god-knows-what-number shot, a dazy thought enters his mind: jae knows  _ exactly _ how to unwind him, to turn him into the most compliant of people. he’s drunker than he should be, which is saying a lot for a good drinker like brian himself. yet, here he sits, cross-legged in the family room, part of the circle of equally tipsy guys from college. 

all thanks to a couple of games, inclusive of lots and lots alcohol.  _ jae, my homie, who knows my weaknesses too fucking good.  _

beside him, sungjin tsks, having to shove brian to sit up straight. “you’re absolutely wasted,” he protests, attempting to snatch brian’s solo cup away from the drunk. instead, brian giggles, mutters something incoherent before gripping firmly onto his cup.

“no,” he pouts, sticking his lower lip out in protest. through his hazy vision, he watches sungjin try to keep a straight face. an involuntary grin breaks across the other’s cheeks.

“okay, okay, shut the fuck up!” jae hollers over the din. opposite the two are wonpil and dowoon, wonpil indeed wearing a translucent button-down shirt (unbuttoned), and the tightest skinny jeans brian has ever seen in his life. dowoon, sat beside him, is dressed in a doctor’s outfit - and feeling wonpil up, the two giggling away like a pair of hormonal teens.

jae, who’s stood towering over everyone else, kicks at wonpil’s ass. “shut up, lovebirds. okay, okay.” the host himself is tipsy, weight swaying from one foot to the other. “okay. shut up, everyone! this one’s for the gays. everyone take turns kissing anyone else.” a smirk forms upon jae’s lips. “but i’ll turn the game up a notch: whoever chickens out has to do a dare. the last two standing get a room to themselves.”

howls shriek from the boys around. the girls standing at the sidelines burst into peals of laughter, watching the scene unfold before them. everyone glimpses at everyone else. brian’s too scared to look at sungjin, who’s chuckling right next to him.

_ fuck you, jae, really, fuck you- _

jae claps his hands together. “what the fuck are y’all waiting for, folks?”

wonpil’s the first to react, grinning slyly as he leans closer to dowoon. wasted as ever, dowoon grins back, until their noses brush. they  _ would’ve _ kissed if wonpil hadn’t chickened out in the end, pulling back before bursting into laughter. 

everyone’s caught in fits of convulsive laughter as wonpil shrieks, “i can’t kiss my best friend!” looming over them, jae’s giggles ebb away before he kicks wonpil.

“i dare you. to pour the soy sauce and ketchup in my kitchen into a solo cup and chug it down,” jae demands, eyes glistening with glee.

the game goes on for forever. brian’s rooted to the spot, simply staring on as one by one, his friends chicken out, too drunk and too scared and too  _ straight _ to return the other’s pretend offer of a kiss on the lips. even sungjin tries it out on dowoon, who screeches like a banshee and sends jae literally rolling on the floor.

“oi, brian!” someone shouts. “you’re literally sat there doing nothing. kiss sungjin or something.”

a wave of heat rushes throughout brian’s veins as he shoots a sideways glance at sungjin.  _ the _ park sungjin,  _ the _ college heartthrob, smiles pleasantly at brian. his hard hat is now lopsided, after jackson had flicked him away from the offer of a kiss. his eyes are bright, dancing. almost taunting brian.  _ so what? what does a kiss change? _

heart ramming persistently against his chest, threatening to break it open, brian bites his lip. “okay. fine. whatever,” he relents. hoots resound throughout the room. facing opposite him, sungjin’s smile widens, and it seems perfectly normal until brian realises  _ the _ love of his life is leaning closer, and closer, and closer-

“holy fuck” is all brian hears before he closes his eyes.  _ park sungjin is kissing the fuck out of me. _ brian’s fingers involuntarily run past the expanse of sungjin’s back as their lips touch tentatively. the second they skim against each other, brian shudders. succumbs to the way sungjin presses his palms against brian’s warm, warm cheeks, to the way sungjin tastes like vodka and salty crisps and everything brian has been dreaming of for at least  _ five years  _ now, to the way his heart beats more violently than ever before.

they don’t stop - brian can’t stop, can’t resist himself from letting his tongue brush against sungjin’s lips. can’t stop how sungjin groans so loud it’s almost illegal, how he almost clambers onto brian’s lap, skin pressing against skin. can’t stop himself from gripping onto the little hairs at the nape of the other’s neck in fervour, shaking all over.

it’s too  _ right _ to feel embarrassed about, too good to be true. but it is.

“woah, shit, this is getting explicit,” jae whistles in the background - that’s when sungjin pulls back, eyes wide and dazed, lips full and swollen. brian lets his eyes scan sungjin’s surprised expression, the way the other looks shocked himself, as if  _ he _ hadn’t leaned forward and initiated the whole thing in the beginning.

jaebum brushes an imaginary tear from the corner of his eyes. “it’s like i’m watching a sappy teen movie come to life,” he jokes. “y’all look like movie stars, i swear.”

an outburst of cries and cheers reverberate throughout the room. brian swears he sees wonpil smirking in the corner of his eyes and a girl erupting into tears (of joy?) behind sungjin. before him, sungjin’s lips tug upwards. 

“you don’t kiss bad, brian,” sungjin comments lightly, voice hoarse. “not bad at all.”

before brian can open his mouth to speak, however, jae clasps his hands together. “okay, the two of you lovebirds, proceed to the guest room.” a twinkle bounces off of his irises. “goodbye, good night, have fun.”

brian’s alcohol-addled brain can’t process anything as he gets dragged up to his feet by sungjin, can’t process how they traipse down the hallway until no one’s in sight, until brian’s back is pressed against the wall and sungjin,  _ park sungjin’s kissing him _ , hard. his eyes fall shut on their own accord as sungjin presses open-mouthed kisses along brian’s neck.

“do you,” he breathes, “know how long i’ve wanted this?” the words send shivers racing down brian’s spine. his grip on the other’s hips loosens with every syllable. “brian fucking kang younghyun, undo me.”

“w-what?” he whispers, stunned. sungjin leans back to take a good look at the shocked expression written itself across brian’s face. “sungjin, i-”

in that moment, brian’s painfully aware about how sungjin’s thigh is  _ just _ brushing past the front of brian’s denim jeans, slowly, once, twice. brian hisses, all his blood drained from his head and rushing down south too quickly to even think about. sungjin has the nerve to even smile  _ fondly _ at brian as the grip on the younger’s shoulders tightens.

“-kiss me, you little rock star.” and brian does, because, after all, he respects his elders - he loves the way sungjin holds him tight, never letting go as they stumble the rest of the steps down the corridor, fumbling for the doorknob before opening the door, shutting it close with the heel of brian’s foot. promises of more to come.

_ more to come _ , brian thinks. way more than he thought tonight would hold.

(and when he wakes up tomorrow, legs hooked around sungjin’s body, head pounding, brian will run his fingers through his blond hair and grin to himself. ‘definitely the rock star hair,’ he’ll think, before pressing his cheek against sungjin’s chest, slowly sleeping the headache away.)

  
  



End file.
